


Knock, Knock, Knocking (on hells door)

by Cerise_anouk



Series: The Demon Code Prevents me From Declining a Rock-off Challenge [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy the demon is at it again, F/M, Gen, Jane's just here for the train wrecks, Tony wasnt ready for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 09:04:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerise_anouk/pseuds/Cerise_anouk
Summary: The portal to Hell was a closet door in Jane’s lab with a large hand drawn sign proclaiming:Entrance to Hell. Do NOT Open. Not an Exit.Thank you, management.Then there was a cheerful smiley face.("You don’t even have a fucking lock on it Darcy!!!” “Well that’s why I put the sign up, Duh.”)





	Knock, Knock, Knocking (on hells door)

The portal to Hell was a closet door in Jane’s lab with a large hand drawn sign proclaiming:

Entrance to Hell. Do NOT Open. Not an Exit.

Thank you, management.

Then there was a cheerful smiley face.

For the longest time Steve had thought it was just Darcy’s 21st century humor he didn’t get until her ‘oh mah gah, Darcy’s a demon’ reveal, and that the closet was just used to store some of Foster’s more touchy equipment.

Nope. It was _literally_ the gateway to hell and he found out _that_ little treasure on a fine spring day when a HYDRA plant tried to take Jane Foster’s latest World Jumping Portal®™ prototype. Then promptly committed suicide by cyanide tooth when caught.

So does Tony.

* * *

 

 

“What are HYDRA’s plans for the prototype?” Steve growls down at the guy he has pinned to the floor with a knee to the chest.

Instead of answering, the battered man curls his lip in a ‘fuck you’ sneer, then his eyes roll back and foam starts coming out of his mouth.

“No! Son of a _bitch_ , he killed himself!” Steve rose from the dead body in frustrated disgust, running aggravated hands through his hair.

“That’s the third fucking plant we’ve had in six months,” Tony growls in anger. Spinning to Natasha, “I thought we screened for this shit? Don’t I pay Hill an obscene amount to screen for this shit?” he gestures at the scene.

Natasha sighs, “Obviously something’s gone wrong with the process. I’ll go speak with her.”

“Well,” Jane says in a ‘look on the bright side’ sort of tone, “at least they didn’t get the prototype.”

Steve rounds on her, “’At least they didn’t get the prototype’? You mean they didn’t get it _this_ time, because they obviously want it enough to plant three agents in the labs!”

“Steve,” Bucky says calmly from where he stands leaning back against one of the desks next to Darcy, trying to check his best friend before he completely losses his temper.

“What Buck? You think I’m wrong about this? Because I’m not, and you’re crazy if you think they won’t be back to try for it again and he,” he says pointing down at the dead man, “had the information we needed to stop them.”

Darcy rolls her eyes and hands off her coffee mug to Bucky.

He takes it with his metal hand. They both know it isn’t a request. Sort of. Not that she actually commands for him to do anything. Him selling his soul to the curvy woman left them in a sort of confusing limbo where she literally owned him until she (well, he, as she made it perfectly clear she’d give him his soul back when he wanted it) said otherwise but so far she hadn’t taken advantage of the situation. As a matter of fact _he’d_ been taking advantage of it by using it as an in to ask the quirky assistant out every chance he got until they’d reached some casual sort of not-relationship. Bucky had been hoping for her to lay out some ground rules or give him a manual like a ‘so you’ve sold your soul’ or something after the deal’d been sealed but months had passed and nada. Well, nothing but mind blowing sex on the regular and some great days spent hanging out but he counted that as a perk.

“I don’t think this is something that can be solved with cleaning products,” Tony says dryly as Darcy silently walks over to the supply closet.

Ignoring him, Darcy opens the door, revealing not shelves of office supplies, or botched doodads, but an eerie wall of inky, pitch blackness. Low, indiscernible whispers can be heard coming from it, and a cold chill rolls across the room, seeping deep into bones. An icy breeze blows past Tony and he feels like someone has just walked over his grave.

Darcy absently twiddles her fingers at them, “Be right back,” then strides through, the door slamming shut behind her.

“Uh, what the fuck is that,” Tony asks the room at large, “Because I’m pretty sure when I looked over the blueprints to this place ‘black hole of doom’ wasn’t on it. Foster, tell me that’s some space portal-y thingy you came up with and it lives in the closet.”

Jane closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. God damn Darcy. Always leaving her to handle the backlash when she drops shit on everyone and walks out. She’s going to be collating worthless data _for months_ for making Jane be the one to explain this to Tony.

“It’s the door to hell,” she deadpans, waiting for the fall out.

Aaaaaaaaaaaannnndddd…

“What the fuck do you _mean_ , it’s the door to hell?”

The thin scientist tosses her hands in the air exasperatedly, “Can we not? Darcy brings a short-cut to hell wherever we go, alright? It’s not like we were even using that closet in the first place!”

Tony’s left eye starts to twitch, and a muscle in his jaw jumps, but he says nothing.

Time ticks by in an awkward silence. Bucky sips Darcy’s (always hot, he’s sure it’s some demon voodoo) coffee. Jane, having spent a significantly longer time with an openly demonic Darcy, just waits in resignation for whatever’s going to happen next. Tony is saving all his energy and witty, pissed off quips for the girl in question. Steve paces in pent up agitation and denied righteous fury.

Bucky shifts, guess it’s his job to break the tension. What did Darce tell him over breakfast? “…So did you hear Parker’s buddy Nate asked Veronica from advanced weapons R&D out in the middle of the mess hall?”

Steve jerks towards him, brow crinkled, “Veronica the over six-foot red-head? She’s too tall for him.”

At the same time Jane perks up, “Shut up!”

Tony scoffs, “She’s way too much woman for him to handle. I told him to start with Carrie in–“

The door (to hell) bangs open, causing everyone in the room to jump, not exactly sure what to expect. Out walks Darcy, one small hand wrapped around a grayish (ash covered? Bucky sniffs the air, smelling faintly brimstone and fire) ankle by which she was dragging a chain wrapped, wailing in utter terror, body out behind her. The door slowly glides shut once she and her cargo have cleared the way. She doesn’t stop until she reaches one of the many wheelie office chairs scattered about. Reaching down she grasps the person by the chain across their chest and lifts them one handed up then plops them down on the seat and they get a good look at their face.

It’s the dead man on the floor.

As soon as that happens the wails turn into pleas.

“Please, don’t take me back! Don’t take me back! I’ll do anything _–anything_! I’m _begging_ you –“

Darcy rolls her eyes, “Enough,” she says firmly, and surprisingly, the persons silences, “Tell them what they want to know, and I’ll send you to where you belong.” Turning to Steve, “He’s all yours,” then she returns to where Bucky was standing and he hands her back her coffee.

Steve blinks then approaches the man breathing heavily in the chains.

For the record, it’s extremely weird talking to the…soul?...of a person who’s body is laying foaming at the mouth three feet away from you. Shaking his morbid thoughts away, he asks the first question.

* * *

 

 

“Lewis,” Tony says in aggravation, “I’ve gotta bone to pick with you.”

Darcy blinks at him in surprise, “…If this is about who programmed FRIDAY to play the Mighty Mouse theme song every time you enter a room it was Peter.”

“No –wait, what? That little –never mind, “ he shakes his head to get back on track, “This is about you putting one of the seven doors of death in my building and not telling me about it.”

“Oh. That,” she shrugs, “I didn’t think it was, like, a big deal or anything.”

“Not a–“ Tony runs his hands over his face in exasperation, “Unfuckingbelievable. You don’t even have a fucking _lock_ on it Darcy!”

“Well that’s why I put the sign up, duh.” She says pointing at the cheery sign.

Jane smacks her face into her hand. Oh my god Darcy.

Tony makes a noise halfway between a strangled shriek of rage and a laugh of despair.

“I’ll take that as ‘No Darcy, you’re completely wrong and I want you to get rid of the super convenient door to the underworld.’” She glances at Bucky to see if she’s gotten it right and he gives her a subtle nod.

“YES!” Tony explodes on a burst of pent up air, “That’s _exactly–“_

“We’re done here.” Steve’s words cut through their conversation and they turn to face him, “He’s given me everything he knows.”

“Y-Y-You won’t send me back there, right? The desperate soul asks Darcy, “I d-d-did what you asked. I told him.”

Darcy tilts her head at the man, and stares unblinkingly at him, “I said I’d send you to where you _belong_.”

The door creaks slowly open.

The hair on Tony’s arms stands on end.

The man starts thrashing uselessly in his chains, “I did what you asked!” he shrieks in a panic, “I did what you asked!” over and over.

A great wind starts tunneling through the room, whipping through their hair and tugging at their loose clothes. The man thrashes harder, and his screams have lost all semblance of words. The chair he’s in wobbles then slowly starts to roll forward before gaining momentum and careening towards the open door. Five feet from it the chair stops, like it smacked into an invisible wall but the chain wrapped man is rocketed from his seat and into the blackness.

The door slams shut, the wind stops, and they’re left with some randomly tossed papers floating to the ground and the now empty seat of the office chair spinning in the thick, frozen silence.

Darcy sips her coffee.

“That’s awful handy to have around,” Steve’s mildly impressed voice breaks the tension.

“I know, _right?!”_ Darcy tosses her free hand into the air then slaps it down onto her thigh, “You’re _welcome!_ ”

Jane shakes her head, spins on her heel and heads for the lab door, quick stepping it down the hall. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not this time. She’s getting out of dodge before Tony comes to his senses and loses it. Pulling her phone out of her pocket she hits Thor’s number. She’s totally earned a long vacation. Norway _might_ be far enough away to survive the fall out when Tony went nuclear.

Maybe.

 _God_ , Darcy’s going to be doing so much shitty paperwork for this.


End file.
